


Amelioration

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Multi, Pain, Trauma, physical rendition of internal thoughts, post Thor 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki, upon his return to earth after having spent time in Asgard for his crimes against it, has now set himself up as King. Here he is in the chambers of his palace, with his clones, both trying to heal and punish himself for what he has done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amelioration

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what to rate this piece, so read at your own discretion.

A lone, solemn figure sat on the emerald sheets at the end of a colossal bed, cast in vicariously colourless light from the pale half-moon shining so brightly though gossamer curtains, hunched over, a long forgotten statue; the remnant of a bygone era, a relic of what once was. Viced hands rested beside the sleek body; gargoyle appearance only set further in stone by the sombre tears pooling beneath half open lids, trying to escape a languidly beating heart.  
  
Loki sighed bitterly, letting all of his self-hatred flow out in a series of curses, of indistinct utterances spewing from his mouth, rolling off his silver tongue; dirty, soiled water from a once clear spring. But so far greater was his detestation of those who opposed, judged him, scorned and mocked him, that he could not bear to bring such a facet of his being to surface, lest it tear him apart.  
  
In need of something, anything, to take his mind off such overwhelmingly taxing thoughts, he waved a commanding hand, the surrounding air humming faintly, creating a figure increasingly similar to his own until he appeared to be staring at a perfect reflection of himself. The god exhaled despairingly, eyes worn with sleepless nights and body wearied in discontent, hoping to what power was above him that peace could be found, at least for one night.  
  
The twin, the clone, came to him without an ostensible verbal order and the Trickster pushed himself gradually back further onto the bed until the loose, airy fabrics bunched around his supple form. Before he could raise his voice to instruct the new duplicate to perform his whims, moving onto the mattress of its own accord, it pulled the surprised god around its slim waist. He would have gasped, but too shocked to see these actions being done by himself so subconsciously, he could present no coherent answer. He had only intended on letting the creature join him for company, feeling so unique in the world that even surrounded by the great ubiquitous crowds of every realm he would still be perceived as the loneliest being in existence.  
  
Watching with increasing eagerness, surprised at how willing he seemed to accept the situation, not knowing how to fully resolve the circumstances his eyes willed into focus, he let the creature tug at the hem of his tunic, pulling it over his skull and raising limber arms in compliance. Why give in so easily? Why did trust this spectre, this unreal illusion? The god did not answer himself as his own gentle hands caressed the material beneath their longing fingers, slowly finding the courage to drag it up and over the clone's head, releasing a heavy breath at the sight of equally bare skin.  
  
Without warning, but with enough time to let the notion permeate his thoughts, Loki skilfully moved his attentions to the twin's throat; lips pressing against the thrumming Adam's apple that jutted so invitingly from beneath its chin. He pulled back after a moment, an extensive, stifling instant, to look the other in the face; identical features seen in a new light. He had expected the gaze to be nothing but blank, barely the vestige of a living, breathing being. Instead he found the twin's eyes were wide and livid, begging the other to continue, threatening to fall apart before him. Loki narrowed his own, letting his brows draw together, but soon he could no longer resist. He pushed his open mouth to its skin, applying the smallest suction, blinking and appearing to slow down the time around them.  
  
While he had always shunned the idea of pleasuring himself in such a way, he could not deny that this replica made him feel…Alive? Worthy? Whole? Every time his iridescent eyes were covered, mind threatening to wander, vistas of the past and future consumed him. But with delicate kisses he pressed into the smooth flesh beneath, onto the slowly throbbing jugular at his complete mercy, he remembered the present and just how gratifying it was.  
  
His angle shifted with the aid of deft hands tugging back on the sable-silken locks wound around identically lithe fingers, exposing yet more of the most appetising neck he had ever witnessed. His other palm slowly worked its way down over the small but prominent ridges of his duplicate's spine. All the thoughts of violence and rage, hatred and denial, flooded from his mouth in a series of delicate moans mirrored by the leisurely pulsating body underneath his own. The way his skin slid gradually over that of the other present entity was accentuated with a soft rocking motion that began at his hips and wove up his torso, chests aligned and pressed together, mimicking the unfurled petals of a new rose.  
  
The air flanked by the heaving bodies became steadily more heated, fogging his eyes with a seemingly insatiable hunger, his breathing loud enough for all to hear as it rasped from a hearty maw. He wanted this, did he not? He _needed_ it, that was certain. Shuddering as a cool hand ran seamlessly down his abdomen, eyes tracing the textured lines that etched it, every second beat of his heart warranted a glance back up at the god-clone who showed him such caring attentions. He beheld its jaded orbs staring into his soul, just as he did with others, and now he felt the full force, the deadly effect. Enraptured, entranced, hypnotized by the ambiance, everything his senses dared to comprehend sent him further into a bliss that he had never known.  
  
He struggled more than a little for breath when the touch reached the top of his breeches; eyes so mesmerised by the ones before him that he could not absorb all that occurred in such a short time. His chest being pounded against from within, the blood began to speed itself around his flushing form, limbs becoming hypersensitive to each feathery touch. He felt something steadily growing, something building deep inside, working its way to shallower depths, something long forgotten; what was it? He looked down subtly. _Oh_.  
  
The King's arousal began to consume him, eat him alive as his muscles tensed beyond normal capacity. The creature before him whispered words of comfort and at that point he was beyond the astonishment of the other doing as it pleased, just so glad that it possessed the tongue _he_ did, letting all the dread and loathing drain away, dripping from him while he threw back his head, raven hair flying in clusters to whip the back of his neck.  
  
His body was humming with a vibrant energy, his actions not his own; smooth hands wandered over his chest, making it crawl with anticipation, tiny hairs standing on end. This moment seemed so beautiful, so perfect, so complete…and yet something still ate him away inside, dissolving the visage of pleasure, fading from the light back into the dark recesses of his mind. Despite the touches, the loving care shown to him by the duplicate, this emulation, he could not relax; he could not let go of reality and become lost in a dream. Resting his lightly furrowed brow against the other's cool shoulder, he lamented with a sorrow-filled sigh.  
  
Gasping, he looked up wide-eyed as the doppelganger lifted his head with two of its elegant fingers; a tender, gentle motion. He gaped blatantly, trying to find words, something that would beg it to continue, but it simply whispered to silence him, "Let me help you…let me aid you…don't shut me out…please don't..." How was he to refuse _himself_? To give up when he gave himself such hope…was that a paradox? Could he really change? Apparently under its spell, Loki consented with a measured nod and slowly laid back on the bed with his legs still draped leisurely over the edge. His breaths, though back to their regular pace once again, turned heavy with desire. His pupils dilated at the extensively obvious bulge at his twin's crotch, peering down his own body briefly with a snigger at their mirroring.  
  
He watched on impatiently as the clone's hand, applying a firm but not uncomfortable pressure, ran down his stomach to slide over the material covering his groin. His toes curled at the slow, sensual contact; biting his lip with a nervous excitement which could now only be quelled by the creature continuing on to his completion. It's fingers trailed back up and came to fiddle absentmindedly with the hem of his trousers, eventually pulling them down just enough to reveal what was swollen with expectation.  
  
Knowing how vain a god he was, Loki did not surprise himself to see such readiness for his own image; straining against all obstacles in a plea for attention. The other appeared just as pleased at the result, the only thing he wanted in this moment bared before them both. His expression, a calm severity, warned the twin not to disobey his silent command as he rolled his regal head onto the pillows, granting permission for its will to be done, trusting the creature with his anatomy; believing it capable of nothing but what he himself desired.  
  
Eyes snapping open as he felt engulfed, consumed by a yearning and a deliciously soft mouth, wanton sounds escaped his trembling lips; straining for them to remain such and not become pitiful screams for more. He would have been content to have only that one feeling, his own lips where he had not thought it possible, but it was not to be, for his clone was more intelligent than he suspected and there was the sad sensation of the warmth leaving him. He held back a disappointed whine, but it was soon replaced by a immensely overt groan as the hand previously balanced so well on his hip relocated itself underneath him. Never having had anything penetrate him in such a way before, his body thrashed unknowing of how to cope with such an intrusion. But he could not deny that it was a titillating feeling. He could not stop now.  
  
Needing no greater incentive to continue, content with only all the moving echo before him could give, if only to keep him sane, he turned on all fours and rutted back mindlessly; the feeling apparently meriting many loud exclamations of pleasure, not bothering to feel ashamed of his state in front of his own eyes. He felt a rather abrupt tightening in his lower half, constricting and twitching with wild abandon. Crying out one moment, whimpering with extreme stimulation the next, he stammered, "T-take me! Ah- take me!" He was utterly shocked at his own powerless and submissive tone, as well as the sudden lack of eloquence; soft moans escaping as an accompaniment to each stifled breath.  
  
The creature eagerly complying, acquiescence a quality for which Loki would have hardly given it credit after previous exertions, he swiftly found a new presence within him, filling so fully that his eyes cantered back in their sockets. Hot to cold to somewhere in between, he felt the movements change as the seasons, each pulse through his arteries a lifetime. No matter what he had believed this experience would become before, what he thought he would gain from a cold, unforgiving night alone with a twin, he still could not fathom how this came to be as wonderfully good as it was.  
  
It was at that point, somewhat out of place, he began to think; almost as if the distraction was enough to let his mind ponder freely what had been caged for so long. Why was he doing this? Why now? He never would have had to resort to such measures in the not too distant past to solve the puzzle of his troubled mind. As his beleaguered brain passed images of his actions, his transgressions, his failures, across his consciousness he faded from the realization of what was physically happening around him. All the world seemed to crumble, the foundations of his need laid bare, made clear. He needed company this night, why? _Because you are unwanted_ … He visibly winced at the words ringing through his head, sparking a flicker from the clone as his magic momentarily faltered. The slip relieving him back into his natural state, he recognized his surroundings and moaned at what transpired.  
  
He could feel it, almost taste it, burning like a fire through his veins. Fire. A weapon of torture in his unfortunate experience. His body writhed beneath the other's, trying to escape, but his motions were halted by the weight that pressed down from above, willing him to continue, to finish, to come. It seemed endless, the pounding momentum possessed by his twin; the impetus with which his hips moved sending the god into a reverie.  
  
Just as he knew he was about to conclude in a magnificent crescendo of ecstasy, right at the edge of the mountain he had climbed, the double pulled out and left Loki collapsing backwards awkwardly onto the bed. His eyes furious and breath madly panted, mouth unable to close as it tried to gasp in the thick atmosphere around them, he looked up at it with a chilling stare that mentally spoke only one thing; _why_?  
  
The clone only laughed bitterly, mockingly, and jeered, "You do not deserve this. You deserve no one. You were not, are not and forever shall not be loved. You are nothing, and all the company in the universe could not change that…" Rage building, Loki's eyes narrowed at the impostor, "We shall see." He hissed raising a hand and willing more clones into subsistence until the room was practically brimming with them. At first their forms wavered, but at last they all seemed to find a stability, a unified existence. It was strange, having an argument with his own mind, one of equal intelligence; something he certainly was not used to. But it had been coming, a dormant force for a long while now to haunt him.  
  
He rose from his position on the bed, kicking the other, the defiant creature that was nothing more than what his own imagination and magic had created, away from his proximity. "Show him what becomes of those who disobey!" He growled at the new clones, face set in a wary snarl as he waited for the inevitable punishment to be brought down upon… _himself_. They came closer, one after another abusing its mouth and trailing their lips over its body. The King cackled sadistically and, though his mind was racing with confusion as to what his current vision meant, he moved forward to the tortured duplicate in person.  
  
He was determined to be satisfied, to force himself harshly if need be upon his mirrored body; for it was not real, it was nothing but a falsified epitome of the light that surrounded him. It could not feel, it could not want. No, he would take and give what he wished, without the slightest inkling of remorse for a creature that was not worthy of his…  
  
 _Unworthy_.  
  
Looking down, eyes seeming to clear of the fog that such lustful wishes had placed upon them, blinding him to the truth, he glimpsed what secrets his own intellect held. The likeness stared back with fear; uncontrollable terror. He had seen it in the eyes of so many of his helpless victims before, but to see it here now, reflected parallel to his own body…it broke him. It _shattered_ him.  
  
He could not do this to _himself_.  
  
He waved them away, every last duplicated figure crumbling into the surrounding air and fading from what existence they possessed as pure energy. Though it was because of them he felt so distressed, he closed his eyes, unable to bear the sight of his only company, his comfort, though poor as it was, leaving him so abruptly without a word of goodbye; every last element of their being destroyed by his hand, just as they were made. Loki would never be able to replace what he had lost with any amount of apparitions.  
  
Feeling a cleft appear in his chest, a hole burning like venom through his faintly palpitating heart, he wept long into the night, curled up tightly in the centre of the bed, coiled like the serpent he was, utterly alone. He wanted to cry out, a single name upon his lips, a single word that at that point could have changed his life. But he said nothing. He had been and always would be, the coward. The failure. The weak.  
  
"Only after breaking a heart does one truly know what it is to be broken. I am Loki the Heartbreaker…and none will I ever break more than I have my own."


End file.
